


do they know it's christmas

by DirtyRottenRaskel



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dialogue Heavy, First Meetings, Fluff, M/M, aged down jack (he's like 39), and jack still does phoenix type stuff, christmas tree farm au, jack is trying to be a good dad, mac is horny on main for cowboys, mac is in college for grad reaserch, macdalton, maybe i will add more chaps later who knows, this is basically pre-slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:41:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28329177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DirtyRottenRaskel/pseuds/DirtyRottenRaskel
Summary: “Heard this was the place to get a tree ‘round here,” the man drawled.Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, he had an accent. Something southern and easy, maybe Texan. Mac’s brain nearly short-circuited.“Well, we got trees and we are right here, so we should be able to make something work for you guys today. I’m Mac,” he introduced himself, focusing very hard on getting his words out in the correct order. “I’m just the guy who ties things down, so feel free to look around, and give a holler when you find a tree you like, or if you have any questions.”
Relationships: Jack Dalton & Angus MacGyver (MacGyver TV 2016), Jack Dalton (MacGyver TV 2016) & Riley Davis, Jack Dalton/Angus MacGyver (MacGyver TV 2016)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 43





	do they know it's christmas

**Author's Note:**

  * For [amjd](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=amjd).



> hello all of u on this fine christmas night!  
> i really just wanted to write mac & jack meeting for the first time in a christmas tree farm :) it felt festive  
> this is like a first meeting au type of thing, so it's not super relationship heavy, but i am throwing around the idea of adding another chapter or two later  
> but for now, enjoy these two fools :))

“Jack.”

Something hit the back of his head. He didn’t bother glancing down at the floor to where the offending object had fallen to know it was a crumpled piece of paper. 

“Jack.” 

Another paper ball went flying, bouncing off the side of his head this time. 

“Jack!”

He whipped around, hand plucking the ball out of the hair for a moment before hurling it back at Rylie. It hit her between the eyes and bounced to the ground to join the legion of wrapping paper scraps there, Rylie cackling the entire time. 

“Alright, punk, ya got my attention, now what do you want,” Jack said, aiming for gruff and aloof, but coming off sickeningly fond. 

“Well,” Rylie said, dragging the word out, “since this is the first Christmas we’re spending together since everything went down, and I just thought that maybe we could get a tree!” 

Jack raised an eyebrow. “Everything that went down, huh? That’s a nifty way of putting it.”

Rylie rolled her eyes. 

“It’s the spirit of Christmas, Jack! Embrace it! Even John McClane likes Christmas!” she said. 

“First off, see, I knew you liked that movie, but also, you were in federal prison-” Jack started.

“Only ‘cause they threatened my mom, and getting caught was the only way to both get them arrested and keep her safe,” Rylie butted in. 

“Don’t get me wrong, it was a smart play, but still doesn’t change the fact that I hated watching my little girl get locked up,” Jack said. 

“You’re not the only one,” the hacker mumbled under her breath. 

Jack sighed and walked over to where Rylie was curled up on the floor wrapping presents for her some of her coworkers (friends? Rylie wasn’t really frivolous about gift giving, so these people must have been veering towards actual companions) and sat on the couch her back was resting against. He laid a hand on her shoulder (slow and deliberate - neither of them did well with sudden movements, especially in their personal space). 

“Just let your old man worry about you kid, ok? And if getting a tree will make you happy, well, we will just have to make that happen then, won’t we,” he said, looking around his apartment and cringing at the nearly empty walls and absolute lack of holiday decoration. 

It wasn’t even like he hated Christmas, it was one of his favorite holidays, but he just...wasn’t up for decorating this year. Or last year. Or really the year before that.

He didn’t get a ton of free time from work, crime never stops and all that, and the time he did have was usually spent running errands or crashing on the couch and stuff like that. There was also really no point in decorating when there’s no one to decorate for. 

Rylie’s mother Diane was a wonderful woman, don’t get him wrong, but there was a reason they had gone their separate ways. The constant threat of death that surrounded his occupation is hard to deal with in a partner, and the whole ‘the first part of their relationship was built on a lie’ thing sorta threw a wrench in things. They still saw each other on occasion, especially now since Rylie was one of the most important people in his life. 

She still blamed him for bringing Rylie ‘back into such a dangerous lifestyle,’ but she couldn’t be too mad, especially since the deal that Rylie came to work with him at The Phoenix Foundation was what had gotten her out of prison. 

Rylie’s face split into a wicked grin, “I know just the place.” 

~

Mac hadn’t meant to get into plants and gardening (they were a lot harder to blow up and a lot more difficult to manipulate than things like chemicals and explosives). It was just something that happened when he came back stateside and was honorably discharged from the Army and his work with his special ops team as an EOD technician after 11 years of service. He decided to take advantage of some of the programs to get veterans back into higher education after their service, and went back to one of the California universities in order to pursue graduate research in the advancements and safe detonation of explosives. 

When he was there, he started seeing flyers about a veteran gardening club or something, which absolutely sounded like an old people hobby, until he was talking to one of the girls in his research group who was ex-Navy and she mentioned the club. Turns out, it’s a lot easier to wash away the nearly unshakable feeling of blood on your hands when they’re buried in the ground. Not to mention the symbolism of working to prompt growth rather than acting as a harbinger of death and destruction. 

So now, he had a hobby. 

A totally normal, productive, actually pretty fulfilling, hobby. 

Plus you know. He had never really considered himself an avid horticulturalist before, but college was time to try new things and all that shit right? 

Now, with the threat of weather dipping below 50° and the raunchy holiday song renditions that spilled out from greek row, it was really starting to feel like Christmas. 

Christmastime for the Veteran’s Gardening Club apparently meant lending their time to the local Christmas tree farm, which trucked trees down from way up north and selling them to the surrounding neighborhood. 

Mac figured he could help out, and it really didn’t hurt that they would pay him. He had been looking for a side gig to fund his current research into the use of gas chromatography to detect trace amounts of toxins in the air that indicated potential bio or chemical weapons as well as using their concentration amounts to determine proximity. 

This was also the first Christmas in a while he was going to spend where he wasn’t miles deep under enemy lines, clearing landmines and other ordnances for his op team. Holiday colors tend to lose their appeal when it’s red blood against white sand, topped off by the camo green of their tanks and artillery. 

So now, in order to chase the demons back into the dark corners of his mind, he was helping strap Christmas trees to peoples’ roofs for a whopping fifteen bucks an hour. 

The organizers had banished Mac to the roof tying situation after he attempted to soup up the tree netting machine, but apparently ramping up its capacity to be able to net up to sixty trees a minuet was more of a nuisance than a help, since it kept knocking the poor souls catching the trees on their asses. Not to mention that they had at max like five people there an hour. 

Mac was in the middle of whittling one of the pine tree stumps into a whistle when a black pickup truck rolled into the lot, windows down, with what sounded like Aerosmith drifting out of the speakers as it’s tires crunched slowly over the gravel. 

His head snapped up, intrigued, because that combination usually meant either a bunch of frat guys celebrating on their own for the first time or a dad who got suckered into dragging a tree home for the family. 

Eyes fixed on the truck, Mac was secretly hoping it was the first group, because despite acting like absolute douches sometimes, there was something to be said about them being easy on the eyes. Mac was only human. 

The door opened, and out stepped a man in an honest to God cowboy hat. He had yellow aviators on and a button down utility shirt that Mac thought was probably a size too small with the way it stretched over the muscles of his arms. He looked to be a little taller than Mac, but all he could think about is how well they would fit together, curled up in bed, or maybe something a little less G-rated. 

Heat coiled low in his stomach, and Mac readjusted the flannel hanging off his shoulders just so his hands had something to do. 

He tucked his hands into his jeans and hip-checked the truck door shut and damn, that shouldn’t have been nearly as hot as it was. 

Just then, a young woman got out of the passenger side, and the threads of arousal were stomped out by the flood of embarrassment that ran through Mac. What the hell was he thinking, this guy was way out of his league, and he should have known better than to even pretend that he would’ve had a chance with him. 

Still, he figured since he was stuck helping this really,  _ really  _ attractive stranger out, he may as well make the most of it. 

“Heard this was the place to get a tree ‘round here,” the man drawled. 

Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, he had an accent. Something southern and easy, maybe Texan. Mac’s brain nearly short-circuited. 

“Well, we got trees and we are right here, so we should be able to make something work for you guys today. I’m Mac,” he introduced himself, focusing very hard on getting his words out in the correct order. “I’m just the guy who ties things down, so feel free to look around, and give a holler when you find a tree you like, or if you have any questions.” 

“Thanks hoss,” he said, mouth pulling up at the corners into an easy smirk. 

Then, as if that wasn’t torture enough for Mac, he dipped his motherfucking hat, before the pair wandered into the array of trees that filled the lot. 

A little while later, the two of them found their way back to Mac’s part of the shindig, 7 foot tree in the man’s grip like it was nothing, while one of Mac’s coworkers trailed haplessly behind them, trying to offer his help. 

“Hey Jack,” the girl with him started, “I’m gonna go ring this sucker up, while you strap her down.” 

_ Jack, _ Mac filed away for later.  _ Nice name.  _

“Alright kiddo, sounds like a plan,” the man, Jack, said. 

And now wasn’t that a new development. Reevaluating the pair in front of him, Mac could definitely see the father/daughter dynamic between them. His heart did a stupid little lurch at the thought that maybe Jack was single. And while he was almost definitely straight, it was still LA, so Mac hung on to a thin sliver of hope. 

It wasn’t usually like him to be so fixated on a stranger, but there was something just absolutely captivating about him. 

Jack turned back to him and said, “Alrighty then, Mac, ya heard the woman. A little birdie told me you’re the rope expert ‘round here so let’s get this sucker tied down.” 

Mac grinned, and moved to grab the stump of the tree since Jack was still holding onto the front, and together they propped the tree up in the bed of Jack’s pickup. 

His eyes went wide when he saw what was in the other man’s truck bed. 

Mac looked up at him, mouth still slightly agape, and said, “Did you really bring me tie-downs? Like good and proper ratcheting tie downs?”

Jack laughed, and grabbed one of them, unwinding the straps with such efficient dexterity that if he didn’t stop soon, Mac was going to have a little problem down south. 

It wasn’t his fault that competency was so hot- and to mix it with things that could easily be used as a restraining mechanism? What man hasn’t busted a nut over a little bondage action. 

Shaking his head to knock his brain back out of the gutter, he grabbed the other one and unwound it, moving to the top of the tree to secure it to the roof racks. 

“You won’t believe the shit people bring to tie down a tree,” Mac babbled, brain needing to fill the temporary silence as they worked. “We have twine here, of course, but it’s just alright. Had a guy once who tried to duct tape it to his roof. Don’t get me wrong, I love a good duct tape job, but I also prefer my trees to stay both on my roof and full of pine needles.”

Jack laughed, the sound deep and a little rough, almost as if it wasn’t a sound Jack had made in a long while. 

“Happy to provide such quality equipment then,” Jack said. 

“You don’t even know, man. These nylon straps got a breaking strength of probably around 6,700 pounds, so of course they can hold about 2,200 pounds. This tree is light work, but back overseas, we used to use these to hold our cargo as we transported it. My babies didn’t snap once, which, thank God, considering we were moving heavy duty artillery and explosives,” Mac said. 

The other man looked at him with an odd expression on his face, and heat flooded to Mac’s face. There he went, babbling again, talking about nerdy shit no one cared about, because seriously, who the hell cared that much about freaking  _ tie down straps _ . 

“Sorry,” Mac said, body hot with embarrassment. “Didn’t mean to ramble on like that.” 

“Don’t worry about it man. Haven't really talked to many other humans in the past few months, so trust me when I say I enjoy the companionship,” Jack said. 

He paused for a second, gaze intent as it slid over Mac as if he was trying to see into his very soul. “Army?” he asked. 

“Yeah, uh, actually,” Mac said, “EOD tech in Afghanistan and wherever they needed me, really.” 

“I’m ex-Army myself, worked as an overwatch for you little bomb nerds to do your stuff,” Jack shrugged, lips pulling up into a smirk at his last comment. 

“That’s how I ended up here, actually, back in school. As much as I love diffusing bombs on a daily basis, it gets a little much after a while. Plus sand was really starting to feel like my mortal enemy,” Mac said, scraping his tongue against his teeth, trying to shake the ghost of the feeling of the dry grit of sand in his mouth. 

“You, me, and Anikin, my man,” Jack said. “I was kind of wonderin’ about that, because you don’t really have the stupid look on your face a lot of these other college kids do. I wasn’t gonna ask, of course, it being your business and all, especially since everyone’s walking a different path, but you can’t stop a man from wondering.” 

“We have cocoa,” Mac blurted out. “If you want. Just while we wait. Christmas cheer, and all that.” 

Jack nodded, and Mac scrambled over to the hot cocoa stand, grabbing a cup for both of them. Mac wasn’t even sure how he felt about hot cacao, especially since this was the water based kind, but small talk was not exactly his forte. 

Two steaming cups of hot chocolate topped with whipped cream later, Mac turned back to the other man, and passed him one of the cups. 

Their fingers brushed together, and a tingle shot through his spine. Talk about a fucking rom-com moment. His hands were just so warm, and even in that brief touch, Mac noted the rough skin of trigger finger calluses. 

“So what brought you back to school,” Jack asked. “You studyin’ anything cool?”

“Actually, yes,” Mac said. 

He continued, “So I was an EOD back in the Army, and I’ve always been into science and engineering and stuff. I was originally at MIT for a semester before dropping out to enlist, but part of me really missed that research environment I guess. I really love finding new ways to use things, and the complexities of chemical engineering and explosives really drew me.” 

Mac realized with a start that he was talking way too much and way too fast again, and he started to apologize, only to be cut off by the other man. 

“Huh, that’s pretty neat. Way over my head, but glad some of you nerds like it.” 

The way he said it made it seem like being a nerd was a good thing, or at least endearing by the warm tone of Jack’s voice. 

“I- I guess. Sorry, I just get a little enthusiastic sometimes, and I forget it doesn’t make the best of small talk,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Don’t worry about it hoss, I like it. Never apologize for being passionate about something. I enjoy listening to it,” Jack said. 

“Might just be the only one,” Mac mumbled under his breath. 

Jack narrowed his eyes at him, and bit his lip as if he was turning something over in his head. 

“What did you say there? Didn’t quite catch it. Sounds like you were being self deprecating again, which for the record, you have nothing to deprecate,” Jack said. 

Mac blushed, again. Maybe it was cold enough out that he could just blame it on the weather. 

“Nothing, just not everyone feels the same. Had an old boyfriend who used to hate when I went off into ‘nerd-land,’ as he called it. Needless to say, he isn’t around anymore, but some things stick with you,” Mac shrugged. 

“Boyfriend, eh?” Jack said. “He sounds like a piece of shit - not a dig at your taste by the way, some people just suck. Had one of two not-quite-boyfriends myself, but growing up in Texas and then heading straight into the military does not bode well for exploring your sexuality. When you swing both ways, sometimes it’s easier to just go with what’s around you, ya know.”

Mac laughed. “We’ve wandered our way well out of small talk territory, haven’t we.”

“Yeah, but I don’t mind. We seem to have been abandoned here, since apparently it takes Rylie a goddamn millennium to pay for a freaking tree. Can’t complain about the company though,” he said, giving Mac a once over and winked. 

Mac’s eyes went wide, and he made a strangled little noise in response. 

“Uh, thanks,” he said, “Ditto.” 

“Rylie is actually the kid of one of my long term ex’s, actually. She was a wonderful woman, and we still get along great, but some people aren’t meant to be together. I work right now in what is basically a special forces division, and that gets tough on the family after a while. Rylie is like a daughter to me, though, and we’ve gotten a lot closer over the years,” Jack explained. 

“She sounds great,” Mac said. “Special forces you say? How’s that.”

“Yeah, well I was delta force for a while, and now I do kinda off the grid stuff, so I can’t really go too much into it, but- Rylie!” he yelled, cutting himself off. “Speak of the devil!” 

The quickly approaching woman rolled her eyes, swinging her leather bag back over her shoulder. 

“What’s up Jack,” she said, before cutting her eyes over to Mac with a wicked grin. “You keep yourself outta trouble while I was gone?” 

It was Jack’s turn to roll his eyes, the action tinged with unmistakable fondness. 

“Never,” he quipped. “You ready to head out?” 

“Oh!” Mac said. “Before you go, you should grab a flier! The veteran’s gardening club is the one who actually puts this tree sale lot shindig on, and we’re having another sort of holiday festivities meeting right before Christmas. If you’re interested, of course.”

“Will you be there?” Jack asked. 

“Of course,” he replied. 

Jack grinned wide, teeth blindingly white as Mac stared. He grabbed one of the colorful posters Mac gestured to off of the wall, before heading over to the truck. 

“Then I’ll be there,” he said, southern accent coming in thick. 

“It’s a date,” Mac beamed back at him.

**Author's Note:**

> lmk what u thought!  
> kudos & comments r always appreciated :))  
> also, since this is a fic that deals with veterans, if i phrased smth weird, or it just seems a little off or disrespectful, please let me know! i also want to acknowledge how hard this season can be for those who have served, and struggle with things like homelessness, ptsd, and grief - so thank you for those who have served and sacrificed for us all, i really do appreciate it <3  
> come say hi to me on my [tumblr](https://dirtyrottenraskel.tumblr.com/)  
> hope all y'all have a sweet holiday szn!


End file.
